


parting need not last forever

by artifice (orphan_account)



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst, Apocalypse, Communication, Declarations Of Love, End of the World, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Legend of Zelda References, M/M, Magic, Majora's Mask fusion, Marriage, Oaths & Vows, One Shot, Vignette, a suspicious lack of masks as well, basically if enjolras and grantaire were kafei and anju, link is nowhere to be found
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23047507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/artifice
Summary: Miraculously, Grantaire lets out a light laugh. “Our love, transcendental. Unshackled from time and space, life and death.” He tenderly brushes Enjolras’ curls back with light fingers, and Enjolras savours the touch. “Take refuge, mon ange. We shall greet the morning together.”-With minutes until the world ends, Enjolras and Grantaire finally get married.
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Kudos: 15





	parting need not last forever

**Author's Note:**

> [that's it, that's the tweet.](https://twitter.com/incorrectexr/status/1236078201828450304)  
> 
> 
> warnings: talk of impending death, implied death
> 
> [i imagine this piece in the background,](https://youtu.be/KHGHhYZCIQI) if you want to set the mood. overplayed, i know, but it's the first piece i think of when i think of the end of the world, so.

_**Whenever there is a meeting, a parting is sure to follow.** _

_**However, that parting need not last forever...** _

_**Whether a parting last forever or merely a short time...** _

_**That is up to you.** _

* * *

“You came back.”

Enjolras makes an abortive gesture with his arms, as if to reach out and never, _ever_ let go—

And he hesitates, collapsing to his knees after a length, his hands resting uselessly on his lap. Tears are already starting to swim in his vision, but nothing can hide the absurd reality of their situation. The world is _ending_. Clock Town is devoid of nearly all life, yet here they are: the Musain, at the altar of what would have been their wedding, reunited at last. Grantaire looks terrified and so unbearably _young_.

“I said yes to your proposal, didn’t I?”

At that, Enjolras almost lets himself smile. He knew he was right to wait.

He had wondered if it was pointless to stay for a man who might never come back. A man who, by any stranger’s account, might have fled at the first sign of danger. Certainly, their family and friends had all long since evacuated to the outskirts of the country after the moon appeared. If Enjolras had run as well, nobody would have blamed him.

He’s never done anything by halves, though, and to die waiting for Grantaire on their wedding day— that’s still a decision he would have made in any life.

“Why did you—? I thought...” His voice breaks off, barely steady until then. A terrible thing _must_ have happened, for his fiancé to disappear so suddenly, only to reappear in the body of his younger self. “I didn’t know what to think.”

Grantaire’s face crumples as a hundred different emotions bleed through, all within the blink of an eye. Tentatively, he steps forward into Enjolras’ space. “I’m sorry I was late.”

At the apology, something snaps horribly in Enjolras’ chest, and before he can process his thoughts, his pent-up worry snaps to the surface. With a wordless, guttural sob, he collapses the distance between them: he flings his arms around Grantaire’s too-small shoulders and buries his face in the crook of Grantaire’s dirt-streaked neck.

He hears a relieved sigh— _absolution_ , Grantaire feels _absolved_ — and Enjolras cries harder, because how could this man ever think he’d reject him, especially in this hour of inexorable oblivion? His emotions fling about as wildly as the storm outside.

Gravity shifts notably in the air, a sign of the moon’s impending impact. Grantaire tightens his grip on Enjolras’ hips in response.

“Three days ago, the boy in the mask, he knocked on my door,” he says, his words muffled slightly by Enjolras’ hair. “He cursed me to look like this. I don’t know how.”

Enjolras vehemently shakes his head as much as he can. “I would have understood, I wouldn’t have—”

“ _Mon cher_ , he took our wedding rings and robbed me blind.” Carefully, he pries Enjolras away enough to look at his face. “I hadn’t even a rupee to my name. I _couldn’t_ return, not at least until I got the rings back, curse be damned.”

Indignation quickly fixes itself on Enjolras’ features.

“I wouldn’t have cared,” he says furiously, and he hates this lump of regret in his throat— the regret over every miscommunication, every argument, every _fight_ they had in the past that led the love of his life to think he’d care about something so— _trivial_.

Just as quickly as it comes, however, the rage drains out of him, and his heart sinks with the realization that nothing can be changed. Not now, at least— not with minutes until they’re crushed. He slumps on the spot, eyes closing in despair.

“I know,” Grantaire murmurs soothingly, his thumbs rubbing comforting circles into Enjolras’ waist. “But never mind that now. Time runs short, _mon amour_ — let me see you.”

His hands move to frame Enjolras’ face, and Enjolras opens his eyes to mirror him, running his fingers along Grantaire’s strangely smooth jawline. It’s bizarre to see him without stubble, unmarred by nearly three decades of hardship, though his eyes remain the same.

“ _Grantaire_ —” he chokes out, unable to express the thousands of unsaid words that linger between them.

The other man shushes him gently. “Even with hell above us, you’re extraordinary,” he whispers, barely audible over the steady crescendo of the wind. “Do you permit me to follow you to the end? To have and to hold, for better, for worse, for the end of the world, till death do us part?”

The walls tremble around them, and the air pressure is deafening.

“I do.” Enjolras leans forward until their foreheads are touching. “I’ll love you endlessly— I swear it. Death could not shake me from you.”

Miraculously, Grantaire lets out a light laugh. “Our love, transcendental. Unshackled from time and space, life and death.” He tenderly brushes Enjolras’ curls back with light fingers, and Enjolras savours the touch. “Take refuge, _mon ange_. We shall greet the morning together.”

The roof creaks horrifically as it starts to cave in, but Enjolras pays it no mind. Grantaire presses a chaste kiss to his chin, then to the corner of his mouth, and finally breathes _I love you_ against his lips.

Enjolras smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> with midterm szn going on i'd like to take this moment to quote the happy mask salesman again and say "believe in your strengths"!


End file.
